Liner Notes
by Oblique
Summary: Why did Merton come home to go to college w Tommy? Hint: It wasn't lackluster courses...SLASH, TM


Title: Liner Notes  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairing: Merton/Tommy  
  
Summary: Merton comes home.  
  
Feedback: Makes me explode with joy!  
  
Archiving: Anywhere, just let me know  
  
Author: Mel Evil (Okay, its not very original-sue me!! Well, no,   
  
please don't…)  
  
Disclaimer: Everything (and everyone) belongs to whoever owns it-not   
  
me, that's for sure! No profit being made, no harm intended-then   
  
again, its hardly as if the creators of BWoC would ~mind~!! They put   
  
all the slash in the show in the first place; we're just fleshing it   
  
out, savvy?  
  
This is my very first published fic, so be kind-but only if it   
  
doesn't interfere with your own personal agenda. As far as I can see,   
  
this fandom needs all the fic it can get, good or bad. This one's for   
  
you, Adrienne, as a going-away gift for college.  
  
Liner Notes  
  
Mel   
  
When Merton went off to college without Tommy, he   
  
figured it would be all for the best-his little crush on Tommy wasn't   
  
helping anybody-least of all himself-and breaking off face-to-face   
  
contact was exactly what Merton needed to clear his head, to get over   
  
his teensy little obsession.   
  
He knew he'd miss Tommy, but he figured that phone calls and e-mails   
  
(no matter how nearly illiterate Tommy might be in type) would be   
  
plenty enough to keep him happy as far as the teenaged werewolf was   
  
concerned.   
  
And, by Merton's 4th day at Heidelberg, he felt that the school had   
  
real potential for taking his mind off Pleasantville. The `dorms'   
  
resembled his Lair far more than the ivy-covered sunny buildings   
  
filled with smiling teens usually associated with college life.   
  
  
  
Mert was nearly all finished unpacking his various   
  
occult knickknacks and books-he had a room to himself, and while it   
  
was smaller than he was used to, it suited his needs. He had also   
  
managed to find his way around the small campus and figure out his   
  
schedule.   
  
The few kids Mert had caught glimpses of amidst the cavernous   
  
hallways looked like people he might have a chance of befriending   
  
(though he had seen more too-short skirts and poorly spiked hair than   
  
he might have wished), but the last thing he wanted was to look like   
  
an idiot on the first day.  
  
So, before he started either risking boredom or reneging on his   
  
personal vow to not think about Tommy, Merton decided to bone up on   
  
general paranormal knowledge before classes officially began in two   
  
days.  
  
Truthfully, Merton felt he was very well prepared to talk and write   
  
about any sort of paranormal activity Heidelberg could throw at him,   
  
having lived in Pleasantville, but he didn't want to take any   
  
chances.   
  
His list of classes had been a fairly pleasant surprise, but some of   
  
his classes sounded a little more `hokey' then he'd expected from   
  
such an esteemed institution-`Faeries and the Average American', for   
  
one sickening example.   
  
Merton had just pulled out his worn copy of Common Curses, and How to   
  
Survive Them when something in the margin of the page of his open   
  
Paranormal Encyclopedia caught his eye.   
  
It was a simple drawing of a stylized dog-thing raising his leg to   
  
pee on something…Merton squinted at the tiny picture, and saw that it   
  
was in fact a miniscule copy of the very book the dog was   
  
immortalized in. A grin spread across Merton's face as he realized   
  
that the oddly shaped dog must, in fact, be a werewolf.   
  
Tommy must have sketched the drawing during one of their numerous   
  
study sessions. Unheeded, Merton's grin widened as he remembered the   
  
two of them poring over Merton's books, either trying to find a way   
  
to defeat the latest monster or simply studying potentially useful   
  
information.  
  
Mert tried hard, especially when he knew his help was needed, but his   
  
concentration was always shot by Tommy-Tommy didn't believe in   
  
sitting still; Merton loved watching him struggle to focus, shifting   
  
in his chair, crossing and uncrossing his legs, moving to a more   
  
comfortable spot to read in.  
  
If Merton ever got too involved in a text by Tommy's estimation,   
  
Tommy would distract him by tossing a paper airplane at him, or-when   
  
he was being more serious-by asking Merton a surprisingly pertinent   
  
question.   
  
As Merton flipped through the pages of the Encyclopedia, intently   
  
searching for more doodles, he failed to notice that he was breaking   
  
his own rules by thinking about Tommy.   
  
Mert discovered several more cartoons in that book-some of Lori   
  
(Merton deduced it was her by her aggressive poses and even more   
  
belligerent hair) and some of Dean-all doodles of him showed him   
  
inextricably attached to his recliner.  
  
Without pausing to question the wisdom of encouraging his obsession   
  
while he was hundreds of miles away from his crush, Merton pulled   
  
down more books. He sought out the volumes he remembered Tommy   
  
reading most often-including The Idiot's Guide to Lycanthropy, Of   
  
Witches and Warlocks, and Creatures of the Nyghte-Tommy loved to   
  
point out the purposely-misspelled title and chuckle over it.  
  
Still grinning happily, Mert began to flip through the tomes, losing   
  
track of time as he searched.  
  
~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~  
  
The next time Merton glanced up at his tacky little cauldron-shaped   
  
clock (his mothers sad attempt to `support his lifestyle', as she put   
  
it), he blinked at it in disbelief. He had just spent over 2 hours   
  
laughing at Tommy's scribbled pictures and reminiscing about his   
  
supernatural friend.  
  
Merton sighed, and decided that one more book's worth of `lovesick   
  
longing' couldn't do any more damage. Merton grabbed his copy of The   
  
Timeless Battle: Good V. Evil; fondly remembering how Tommy had loved   
  
to look at the detailed pictures inside-they depicted everything   
  
from `pixies' (Merton was skeptical of the existence of anything so   
  
pointless, annoying, and mainstream) to lycanthropes.   
  
Tommy had spent many consecutive minutes examining-quite a feat for   
  
Tommy, considering that his attention span, as Merton had once   
  
calculated it, rivaled that of a free-range chicken.   
  
Merton turned to the well-creased double-page layout of a werewolf.   
  
Whoever drew the picture had obviously never seen a fully transformed   
  
werewolf in decent light, at least-the picture resembled an American   
  
timber wolf in all aspects but the tail, and the claws had useless   
  
half-fingers dangling from them.  
  
Merton had first shown Tommy the picture early in their   
  
friendship in order to reinforce common lycanthrope misconceptions,   
  
and to show Tommy why most people, even his parents, would fear him   
  
if they knew. Merton had taken a yellow highlighter to some of   
  
the `factual' points on one of the next pages, but warned Tommy that   
  
most were likely false.   
  
As Merton turned to the blank page on the opposite side of   
  
the drawing, he found a smaller and unbelievably accurate model of a   
  
werewolf. Tommy had drawn the model in the same style as the artist   
  
from the book, using a charcoal pencil sparingly to make thin lines.   
  
Tommy had also painstakingly labeled the `snout' area, the tufts of   
  
fur, the claws, the fangs, the yellow eyes, everything. Beneath the   
  
detailed drawing, Tommy had put down some common facets of   
  
lycanthropism, from "Strong emotions cause transformation"   
  
to `Irresistible urge to howl when in pain".   
  
One of the last bullets said "Friends with Merton". Merton blushed a   
  
little at the unintentional sweetness of the statement, trying   
  
desperately not to read too much into it. He frowned at a bullet down   
  
the page-it had been carefully scribbled over with the same black pen   
  
it had been written with. "Strange sexual urges", Merton was finally   
  
able to make out. Then he did a double take at it.  
  
10 minutes later, Merton was still staring off into space with the   
  
open book on the desk in front of him. He was struggling to dissect   
  
the three words that suddenly seemed to hold the secrets of the   
  
universe.   
  
Did the crossing out of the observation mean that the urges had   
  
stopped? Or that Tommy no longer found them strange? Maybe Tommy's   
  
friendliness ~had~ meant more than Mert had let himself believe.   
  
Maybe Tommy wanted him as much as he wanted Tommy-the casual touches,   
  
the thoughtful gestures, Tommy's protectiveness towards him-it could   
  
all add up to…  
  
No, that was simply projection-Merton had jumped ahead of himself   
  
and automatically assumed that Tommy meant he was sexually attracted   
  
to Merton. Which he wasn't, Merton reminded himself firmly. Tommy is   
  
straight. Straight.   
  
Besides, Merton thought sadly, `urges' isn't the same thing   
  
as `attraction'. Most likely, Tommy had written that in the spring,   
  
when wolves were instinctually driven to mate. Tommy hadn't brought   
  
anything up to Merton, so he figured Tommy had been immune to Mother   
  
Nature's own version of Spring Fever, since he was a werewolf, not a   
  
normal one.  
  
The longer Merton thought about it, the more certain he became that   
  
Tommy had felt an irrepressible urge to mate. Merton and his vivid   
  
imagination began to spin wild tales of Tommy running on all fours   
  
through a dark forest, pursuing a handsome she-wolf, howling his   
  
intentions to the night…  
  
Merton slammed the book shut, breathing hard. Okay, trying to imagine   
  
Tommy lusting after a female was definitely ~not~ helping. Merton   
  
struggled to get his mind away from the image of Tommy running,   
  
shirtless and sweating, panting and…enough!  
  
Merton shook his head to dislodge the images-as he did, his gaze   
  
fell to the desk. When he had forcefully slammed the book closed, the   
  
back cover had fallen open-inside was a montage of drawings of   
  
Merton.   
  
Sure, some of them could be explained away as a mixture of friendship   
  
and boredom, but the final picture inside the back cover depicted a   
  
boy who was obviously Tommy engaged in a serious make-out session   
  
with a character who could only be Merton-the black spikes stood up   
  
proudly.  
  
Without having to consciously think about it, Merton packed his   
  
things back up in a daze, and was on his way home to Pleasantville   
  
University-and Tommy-within a half-hour. 


End file.
